


To Catch a Fall

by Auspen (Ausp_ice)



Series: Vices [3]
Category: Original Work
Genre: (Edited) RP Log, Deals, Drinking, Eldritch beings, Fights, Gen, Injury, Mental Health Issues, Other, Temporary Character Death, Urban Fantasy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-18
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:47:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25364110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ausp_ice/pseuds/Auspen
Summary: Faustus, a gambler who lost his soul in a wager he couldn't win, descending into drunken recklessness.Kavasi, an eldritch descendant that simultaneously wants to hurtle towards and away from her lineage, walking the edge of death and loneliness.The two cross paths one day, forging something that neither necessarily wanted, but both probably needed.
Relationships: Faustus (OC) & Kavasi "Kav" Szkahaav (OC)
Series: Vices [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1836727
Kudos: 4





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Greetings! This is an RP (roleplay) log between myself, [Auspice](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ausp_ice), and my friend [UnluckiestBlackCat](https://www.deviantart.com/unluckiestblackcat). This is a slightly more polished version than the pure logs, of course. 
> 
> More info: [Kav's TH Profile](https://toyhou.se/7206185.-vices-kavasi) | [Faustus's Ref](https://www.deviantart.com/unluckiestblackcat/art/Faustus-Ref-841969028)
> 
> We'll be alternating between Faustus's and Kav's POVs for each chapter/scene!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Words: 1210

It felt rather silent for another night in the city, but despite that Faustus' head was still ringing and pounding. Consequences of being beaten into a pulp, one could suppose.

He'd been slipping in and out of consciousness, but had made it to a stand, then a step, and soon he found himself walking again. In a haze, no less.

Though he had almost tripped over the body lying in wait before him. He stared at it for a while, then glanced at the crushed bodies of his friends from the bar.

There were one too many bodies.

He sighed, getting a closer look through squinted eyes at the unknown victim. Unfortunately they looked a little bit on the... un-alive side as well.

There was nothing he could do about it now. With his consciousness slipping away ever so slightly, he made the decision to head home to his apartment, collapse onto the floor, and promptly pass out.

It had been too eventful of an evening.

When the drunkard finally woke up from his pain and alcohol induced nap, he'd dragged himself to the kitchen with a nagging headache, searching for something to eat or drink.

He felt horrible. And looked it too.

In opening the fridge, a single orange sat there on the top shelf, staring up at him. It mocked him. Teased his shriveled organs with sustenance. It would have been the perfect start to the day.

But Faustus hated oranges.

He closed the fridge with a disappointed groan and searched for his wallet and coat.

Today was the day he finally went grocery shopping.

He soon left after splashing his face with water, cleaning off residual blood for his adventure to the store.

The last thing he expected to see at the store was a familiar face. Particularly, the face of the unknown victim from yesterday.

It all started out normally enough. He was shuffling down the aisles, tossing whatever seemed sufficient for his needs into his shopping basket, pointedly giving the orange section a wide berth.

As he was passing by the instant ramen section, he absently noted the presence of another person on the other end. Not really surprising, people need their ramen. And then he registered the outfit—striped leggings, ankle boots, a leather jacket highlighted with something like electric blue over a high-necked, sleeveless shirt.

It was the exact same outfit that mysterious other person was wearing. Or so he thought. He *was* very drunk and very beat up at the time. But that person was very dead, and this person was very here.

The person glanced up from the package of ramen they were holding, meeting his eyes. They—she, he thought, but he wasn't completely sure—she blinked, tilting her head, before putting the ramen down and starting to walk towards him.

Faustus wasn't sure what to think. He quickly just grabbed whatever was in front of him, some packet of something or other, and slipped around the corner of the aisle, essentially avoiding any potential contact.

Perhaps he was just hallucinating? It seemed likely. He often lost track of time or saw things in the dark. It might have just been a sense of deja vu.

He stared at the packet in his hands, burning a hole through the packaging with his eyes, lost in thought.

"Where's your soul?"

The voice came out of nowhere. At least, that's what it felt like. There wasn't any sound of approaching footsteps, just—suddenly, she was _there._

"F*ck nuggets-"

Faustus flinched so hard and so fast that he almost hurled the packaging at the source of the voice. He held it with an arched arm, ready to fling it, but held on tightly.

"Where the _hell_ did you come from? What did... Who?"

He glanced either side of the aisle, still clutching onto his noodle packet.

And there she was, right behind him.

The stranger had their arms raised, one eyebrow lifted. This close, he could see that her pupils were cross-shaped—contact lenses, maybe? Looked like she had that kind of 'edgy' style.

"Relax," she said. "Sorry for sneaking up on you—I was just curious." Her voice dropped to a mutter, barely audible: "Not every day you see soulless humans wandering around." She raises her voice again, "To answer your question... well, you can call me Kav, if you want. She/her/hers."

Faustus lowered his arms, but stared on skeptically. He looked her over with his tired eyes, unable to piece together some logical explanation as to why anyone would know, or even bother, about his situation.

"Did someone put you up to this? What do you want from me?"

She snorted, one hand covering her face before she let it drop, stuffing both hands in her pockets. "Nah. Like I said, I was curious. Anyways, you sure seemed eager to get away from me—pretty sure I'm not _that_ intimidating." She lifted a questioning eyebrow at him.

"I am not _intimidated_."

Faustus muttered, slipping a little curse of a sigh under his breath.

"Coming outta nowhere like that? Maybe I'm a little startled, a little... _Shaken-_ "

He yawned, covering his mouth for a second. Most emotion left his face after doing so, returning him to a state of exhaustion.

"If you're here to mock me about my lack of a soul, get in line. There's a _looong_ list. If you've got some... Voodoo, hoodoo, magical nonsense going on with your... Weird looking eyes and... I'm pretty sure I've seen you dead or something, I don't know,"

With a careless shrug he looked at the noodles in his hand, and yet another strike of disappointment hit him.

"Ugh, spicy? And I don't even like this brand."

"What, you don't like spicy food? A shame, I think you're missing out." Her eyes dropped to the package. "... I'll admit that brand isn't the best, though. Anyways..."

She leaned back, looking away. "You, uh... you saw that, huh." What, dying? "I'm not here to mock you. Don't know your situation, but it doesn't seem fun I get the feeling you're not too eager to share. I'll just..." She came closer, only to grab a box of pasta from next to him. "Grab this and be on my way, then."

Faustus had watched her move, unsure of how to reply. What could he say? It wasn't every day that someone happened to know about his soulless situation, or that they were presumably _dead_ . It was enough to make his head spin, and it certainly didn't help with his _slight_ hangover.

He dipped his head, glancing up at the newly acquainted stranger.

"It's best you mind your own business. Enjoy your... Macaroni."

"Noted," she said. "Thanks. Later, stranger," and then she sauntered off, disappearing behind the aisle.

Faustus had watched her leave, staring at the empty space in the aisle as if she'd appear again.

It was too strange of an encounter, but it was better it be left alone. He'd had no prior connection to this person. Except... Maybe when he saw what he could only assume to be her body, lying dead in that unfortunate mishap.

There was a shake of his head as he collected whatever cheap food and booze he could for his sulking adventures at home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sketch this chapter was made by Cat!


	2. Train Tracks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another chance meeting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Words: 1379

Thursday, 8:06 PM. That was the time listed on Kav's phone as she lifted it to check for any new messages, the pale blue of the screen bright against the muted darkness of the night. 

She probably shouldn't be wandering around the alleys at this time of night, but when had she ever let "shouldn't" stop her? She scoffs. Even after the fall, she was still engaging in her "reckless behaviors." And there was no one to stop her, anyways. 

The remnants of the void still clung to her. She could still hear the murmurs, the shifting will of something beyond humanity. She could still feel the loss of  _ something _ , but having lost it, she no longer quite knew what it was. 

No matter. That's how it is.

She put the phone away, plunging herself back into the darkness before continuing down the alley—and then pausing at the sight.

If she squinted enough she could see them. That soulless, empty figure. A hapless void in the dark. 

If the lack of a soul didn't give it away, she could have easily taken note of that signature yellow coat or the slumped posture. 

It was definitely  _ that person _ .

Though they weren't scrambling for noodles this time, nor did they look like a stunned mullet. In fact they were standing over the edge of a fence, teetering, looking down at the train tracks below the bridge. They looked... Content.  _ Sullen. _

Interesting coincidence. 

She approached silently—out of habit, really. The shadows softened her steps. When she was only a few meters away, she stopped. "Hey," she called out. "Can't say I expected to see you again."

He looked at her, then. No fear or shock this time—just the swimming gold of his eyes, seemingly filled by the half empty bottle in his hand. 

An alcoholic, she could conclude. Though that might be a tad rude to call out so soon. 

"You following me?" He replied, hissing it through his teeth.

"What, me? No way." She walked up to the fence, still keeping a reasonable distance as she continued to observe the individual. "But I'll admit you're the most interesting thing I've seen in a while. So," she said suddenly, before he could respond, "I never got your name. I feel like a second meeting's reason enough—and besides, I told you mine last time." A nickname, but close enough. It's what she goes by.  Judging by the puzzled look on the stranger's face, though, he couldn't remember it.

"Faustus.  _ Just _ ... Faustus."

Kav nodded. "Faustus, huh? Nice to meet you." She gave an amused huff. "I don't blame you if you don't remember my name, considering..." She flicked her eyes to the stranger's bottle before looking back up, only to see the stranger  shrugging his shoulders to confirm it. 

"Sorry, don't know yours. Repeat it for me if you want."

"My name's Kavasi. Kavasi Szkahaav, if you want the full name, but I doubt you'll remember that." She leaned back on the fence. "You can call me Kav, if you want."

"Kav, huh? Kavasiii." He sounded it out, baffled by such a strange name. "What about Chicken Kiev, can I call you that?"

Out of the corner of her eye she could spot the supposed drunk lifting the bottle to his lips, acting rather smug.

She blinked. "I... have no idea what that is. Some kind of food, I'm guessing. Hopefully something tasty?"

The drunkard had tilted his gaze at her, an eyebrow lifting in disbelief.

"Really? It's garlic and chicken and whatever."

He put the bottle to his lips, but realising it was empty, had given a sigh of disappointment. His hand dropped to his side, taking the empty bottle with it. 

"Look it up. Real tasty."

She shrugged. Why not? She lifted her phone to search for "chicken keev"—oh. Chicken Kiev.

"What do you know, it does look really good," she noted. "I'll try it sometime." 

He seemed to dip his head in agreement to that, and Kav allowed herself something like a smile.  She put her phone away, turning her face to the sky. "So. What are you up to, staring down the train tracks with a bottle of alcohol in your veins?"

Faustus the bottle against the fence gently. "You just answered your own question."

Kav hummed, letting the conversation lapse into silence for a few moments. "Hey. How'd you lose your soul? Stolen by a demon? Eaten by the void?" She inspected her nails, the color bright against the darkness. "Traded it for something you wanted, or lost it in a bet?"

His brows had furrowed at her, then. As if he were struggling to process so many things at once. Or maybe that was just because it was a rather personal question. 

Regardless, he looked back to the train tracks, avoiding her gaze. 

"You're asking a lot of questions, chicken kiev."

"I've never been that great at holding back my curiosity." She turned around, grasping at the fence, joining in on staring at the train tracks. "Are you hoping you'll get it back?"

"No," a straightforward and honest answer, certainly with no hope to accompany it. But he continued, "I lost my soul fair and square, I'm paying the price. I'll never swindle myself out of this one."

"I see. That is fair, but..." She started to climb the fence, making her way up until she could perch herself at the top. She looked back down, watching Faustus. He seemed dissatisfied  with that answer, or maybe with the way she'd climbed up there. "What if you  _ earned  _ it back? You don't seem happy like this," she said, gesturing to the empty bottle. "And wouldn't it be nice to own yourself again?"

Faustus continued to face the tracks. "Why would I ever want that? I can treat myself like garbage whether I have a soul or not, it won't make a difference."

Kav shrugged. "If you say so." She flipped her leg over the fence, before leaning precipitously over the train tracks below. "I can vibe with that. We all pick our poisons, I suppose..."

"Pick our poisons..." He'd repeated her words to himself in a mutter before he glanced up. "What are you doing? You could fall."

He spoke through the fence with some amount of concern. Maybe it wasn't his place to say anything, but Kav supposes… being a witness to something like this would incite an ordinary feeling of preservation in a human, even if it was for another person.

"I could, huh." She looked back. "Don't we all pick our poisons? You might say that this is mine." A sigh escaped her. "Well, it was nice meeting you properly, Faustus. I think I'll be going now." 

And with that, she let go. 

She ignored whatever sound of alarm Faustus might have made. Her night vision had improved since her last death—her family always gained more supernatural abilities with every death, at the price of becoming slightly removed from reality. She picked out the shapes of the concrete and aged metal easily in the darkness, catching her fall easily and making her way down to the bottom without a hitch. 

Once she was back on her feet, she glanced back up.

There was no relief on the drunkards expression when she landed, but he had to squint to see it in the first place. But once he knew she was standing there, and you could tell he knew, he chuckled, albeit rather dryly. 

"Alright, show off your skills. Fine, fine, miss  _ acrobatics _ . You better not be dead or have broken knees down there, I'm not calling an ambulance."

A loud snort escaped her—she was pretty sure it was loud enough to carry up to the fence. "Your concern is appreciated, kind sir," she called out, voice tinged by her amusement. "Decent night to you."

She turned on her heel and stalked off, then, melting into the comfort of the shadows. 

Faustus, huh? He sure seemed interesting enough. A shame his soul got taken—he seemed like he might've been more fun if he were whole. But she knew well how easy it was to get stuck in cycles, how easy it was to just... keep doing what you've been doing, even the bad things. 

Well, oh well. She scoffed quietly. Maybe they'll cross paths again one day. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sketch this chapter was made by me.


	3. Hospitality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Faustus gets in a fight. Kav finds him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Words: 1527

Battered, bruised and confused. 

He'd picked quite a few fights before, gotten involved with some violent people in the middle of empty streets and alleyways. A usual night for Faustus, and this one no different. 

The first few blows were to his stomach, kickstarting the adrenaline. He felt tingly, nauseous, even, when the next strike had winded him. Regardless of whether he'd landed a few hits himself, the damage done was getting to be a bit much. He took a right hook to the side of his head and cursed under his breath. His nose bled profusely, breathing shaky, consciousness fading. 

It was one against two, and hardly fair, but the alcohol had gone to the drunkard's head. Or, at least, he didn't really care. 

He just wanted to drown in the pain.

It looked like it wasn't to be, though. 

"I have to say, I wasn't expecting to meet you again like this." 

The voice was familiar,  _ quite  _ familiar, but Faustus's brain was still taking a moment to catch up. His adrenaline was starting to fade, now that he wasn’t taking the hits anymore.

"Who the hell are you?" That was one of the guys he picked the fight with. 

A laugh. "Maybe the better question is... what am I?" The air seemed to grow heavier, the shadows gaining an unnatural solidity to them. It set off something in his mind, as addled by alcohol as it was—a feeling of  _ offness, wrongness _ . "I recommend you leave." The voice had an echoing quality to it, just enough to feel a little off. 

Faustus's assailants both cursed, then. "Didn't sign up for this," one of them said, and with a few more choice words, he was soon left with only the sound of rapidly retreating footsteps, unnatural atmosphere fading as they ran off.

Faustus' vision blurred as he watched his assailants scurry off into the distance. He still wasn’t quite sure why they'd left, he hadn't noticed, maybe hadn't cared. He just knew they were gone and the fight was over before it had really quite begun. 

He cursed under his breath, almost collapsing into a heap on the ground. But he held on tightly to a pole, barely able to get more than curse words out.

Approaching footsteps. "Well, you look like sh*t." 

The world was swimming, but he still managed to turn his face to take in the sight of that—that Kav, or Chicken Kiev, or whoever, whatever. She was hunched over slightly, head tilted, hands stuffed in her pockets, taking in the sight of him.

"Thank you, I try... my best." He wiped the blood from his nose into his sleeve and felt a wave of dizziness steal his balance. But he remained standing. "Hey. What's the deal with... Getting all involved here?" He made a vague gesture to the lack of his fighting buddies.

"Well, they sure left easily, didn't they? I don't like fights, anyways." She came closer. "You do this a lot, huh." It wasn't exactly a question.

"You stick your nose in my business a lot, huh." Faustus didn't intend for it to sound quite as rude as it did, but he couldn't exactly take it back. He felt too out of sorts to be polite or accommodating, or to even stand. "F*uck nuggets."

He fell forward, unable to maintain his balance any longer, and landed on his side in the dirt.  After a moment, Kav lowered herself to a squat next to him. "You got a place?" She was watching him intently, expression impassive. "I'm not just gonna leave you in the dirt."

He just groaned in reply and forced his squinted eyes to a close. The world looked like a spinning mess, the new acquaintance included, and smelled like tomato sauce. But he'd definitely not had any recently, which might have been a mild concern he should feel. 

Alas. He didn't feel or care for it. 

He just spat blood into the dirt, rolling over onto his back rather painfully. "Everyone else does."

"That's on them, then." A sigh. He feels a touch on his arm— _ cold _ , he can't help but notice—and then, "This may feel strange. I recommend you don't open your eyes." 

If there was any sense of gravity he had before, in a single moment, it was gone. He was weightless, unanchored. Cold and not, floating and falling.  At first he thought that maybe he'd just blacked out—that often happened when he found himself this way or that. As soon as he registered the sensation, though, it was gone, and he found himself on something soft, something like... a sofa? 

"Ugh... alright, not doing that again in a while."

That had certainly felt… different. Uncomfortable. Not to mention he was already nauseous. He tried to squint through a growing black eye at his surroundings but the dizziness had him on a tight and uncomfortable leash. "Mmmhmm... yep... well, I'm gonna throw up."

"Ah, sh-"

There was a loud rummaging sound, and only a few moments later, the sound of something hollow hitting the floor next to him. "Here, bucket. Trashcan. Whatever. Have fun."

He glanced at it, his tired eyes prepared to reach for it. However, by the time she'd gotten him the bucket, his need to do so had dissipated—leaving him feeling empty and sick, without that kind of side effect. 

He shifted in place, trying to sit up, but felt too weak to muster more than a head tilt. "Where've you taken me, Kiev?"

She blinked at him. "My place, since you didn't seem keen on telling me where you live. Fair, but like I said—not leaving you in the dirt."

It looked to be a small apartment—he was in some kind of living room at the moment. Near the couch he was dumped on was a small coffee table with what looked to be a fake potted plant. Farther down the room was a small kitchen, and there were two doors. He could probably assume one was a bedroom, given the lack of a bed in his current location. The other was probably a bathroom. Besides the plant, there weren't any decorations at all. There wasn't even a TV. 

"You can stay the night if you want," she added, shrugging. "Not that you have much of a choice if you can't get up."

He groaned and covered his face with his hands. He felt awful, as though every part of his body was screaming, all at once. Especially his head. That thing was  _ aching _ . "I don't even know where I am."

"Don't you have a phone? I'm sure Google Maps can tell you." He could hear more sounds of rummaging. "Anyways. Unluckily for you, I heal fast. So I don't have any painkillers." Her voice drew closer. "But I guess I have some water bottles, if you'd like to get started washing out all that alcohol that's probably in your veins." There's the distinct sound of a water bottle hitting the table next to him.

"Go clean? No thanks." He looked at her as if he'd been shot in the chest and gave a dismissive wave to it. "Maybe I  _ want  _ to wallow in painful self pity, did you ever think about that?"

She snorted. "I certainly got that feeling. Not much I can do about it, I guess." She ran a hand through her hair. "Well, seeing as you're not rotting in a ditch anymore, I'm gonna go to sleep. Feel free to skedaddle whenever you can get up, I think that's enough of me being human for today. I'd say not to steal anything, but I really don't have much of import, anyways."

Faustus scoffed, taking offense to the statement. He wasn't a thief, he didn't even want to be here. He squinted a glare at her. "I'm not that much of a lowlife," he'd mumbled, rolling over onto his side to face the back of the couch. 

_ "But thanks,"  _ he added, rather quietly and in a separate tone to how he'd been talking before.

There was no response for a moment, and he couldn't even tell if she moved, given his current position. But after only a few seconds, he heard a quiet, "No problem," followed by a quiet shuffling, and the sound of a door closing.

He laid there and sighed, not even daring to touch his bruised face. He was sure it would sting. The taste of blood was at the back of his throat, under his tongue, it was all he could smell.

And now? Well, he was in some stranger's home. Others would have thought 'at least he wasn't in a ditch somewhere'—but that's the thing. He was still...  _ Somewhere _ .

And that new stranger, the chicken Kiev, only confused him more. There'd been too many chance encounters, even for presumably living in the same city. 

He'd have to see how it played out. But now, as his eyes felt heavy, his head and chest pounding, every muscle or bone in his body aching something chronic—he wanted to pass out. To sleep and forget he existed in the first place. 

It didn't take long to, either. 


	4. Consideration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kav wakes up, only to remember that she'd dragged Faustus into her home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Words: 2807

Kav woke up by the light of dawn pulling her out of the void of oblivion, as always. She slithered out of bed, making her way to the bathroom to brush her teeth and all, before remembering that she dumped a kind-of-stranger on the couch. 

Right. It was pretty interesting that they kept crossing paths—she had to wonder if there was some higher force at work here. Oh well. 

She pulled on a baggy black turtleneck sweater over her undershirt, idly wondering if he'd left already. It wouldn't surprise her. Then again, it also wouldn't surprise her if he was still out from his 'late night activities.' Her question was answered as she entered her living room, spotting the yellow of Faustus's jacket. 

He was still curled up on her couch, completely still. Dead to the world. Hopefully not actually dead, though, that'd be pretty bad. She approached, her bare feet padding softly on the hardwood floor, until she was right next to him. "Hey, you alive in there?"

There was no intelligent reply from Faustus, maybe a subtle groan.

That was expected. 

He was splayed out like a dead starfish, an arm hanging out awkwardly, fingers twitching occasionally. Face planted heavily into the couch. It was a mystery as to how he was even breathing like that. A restless sleeper, one could suppose.

She should probably leave him be. He could probably use the sleep, given how deep the shadows under his eyes always seemed to be. She confirmed he was alive, at least. Good enough for now.

Maybe she should eat something. She was still feeling the gnawing within her that was more than just hunger—might have to contact  _ him  _ again, soon, as much as the thought made an uneasiness curl in her gut. 

Kav shuffled over to the pantry. Oatmeal is probably fine... she grabbed a bowl, dumped some oatmeal in it, and then grabbed a carton of almond milk—it doesn't go bad nearly as fast—and poured it in. She grabbed the one metal spoon she owned, and sat down at the dining table. 

After shoveling a decent amount of cold oatmeal in her mouth, she glanced back towards the couch.

He'd somehow rearranged himself, changing positions entirely—though he still looked like a dead starfish. The only thing that had changed was his face was no longer buried in the couch, but facing the ceiling. 

A strange individual, really. What with his lack of a soul, bad mouthed attitude, and lack of proper composure. 

Lying there like that seemed to suit him. 

But he was stirring.

Kav continued to eat her oatmeal, watching him gradually return to consciousness like a dead thing coming back to life. Maybe she shouldn't stare. Oh well. The intricacies of human behavior were sometimes lost on her, though she'd like to think she's been fairly decent at being human.

As she watched the real human in the room wriggle around like a worm, she could see him hanging off the edge of the couch by nothing more than the weight of half his body. 

But that didn't last long. 

With a single twitch of his hand he'd fallen off it, crashing into the floor, and flattening out like a groaning, unhappy pancake.

She gave a soft huff of amusement at her own thoughts, before quickly shoveling the rest of her oatmeal into her mouth. That done, she stood up, shuffling over to the pile of human on the floor. "Hey. Welcome back to the land of the living."

There was a heavy sigh into the floor with that sentence and realisation that, yes, he was alive. She'd made that point clear to him, at least. 

"Take me back."

She couldn't help her snort. "Depending on how literally I take that, I may very well get into trouble with the authorities. No can do."

The pancake figure rolled over, but remained on the floor. He stared at her through squinted, blackened eyes. 

He sighed again, something that was all too frequent. "Can't die anyways."

She blinked. Blinked again. And then she shot fingerguns at him, a crooked smile on her face. "Eyy, same! I do lose my humanity a little every time I die, though."

He tiredly flicked his hand in response, hardly as well composed as her finger guns and probably deserving of some harsh criticism. "Humanity? Who needs that?" he says in a hollow and sarcastic tone. Kav is starting to expect as much from him.

Kav laughed dryly. "Well, when the other option is to gradually lose touch with reality, it's rather nice to have." She took a few steps closer, bending over him. "Hey, you hungry or anything?"

He'd looked up at her, obviously displeased with such close proximity. "No. I don't eat...  _ Breakfast _ ."

She shrugged, straightening. "Fair enough." She half-considered offering to help him up, but somehow, she doubted he'd appreciate it. "Can you stand? It's not too much skin off my back if you lie there for a bit longer, but I figure you might have places to be."

"I just opened my eyes and you want me to walk?" He sighed, planting a hand on his face, presumably to slap some sense into himself. "I'll get out of your hair when I can feel my legs."

Kav raised her hands placatingly. "Hey, I only asked. You can embody your inner pancake as long as you like." She balanced back on her heels for a moment, considering. "If you... want any help or anything, let me know," she muttered, before padding back to the table, grabbing her bowl to put in the sink.

"Inner pancake..." Was all she heard from him as she left his side. 

A few minutes into her task of washing the dishes, however, she glanced back and noticed him sitting up. He held his bruised head in his hands, mumbling colourful words to himself.

"Are you  _ sure  _ you don't want something in your system before you go?" Kav asked, turning to look at him fully.

He just stared at her with some all-knowing, severely sleep deprived gaze. "More alcohol."

Kav gave him the best withering look she could muster. "Hate to break it to you, friend, but I don't have any."

He responded with a subtle nod—careful, probably, not to disturb a headache. "Of course you don't." He made a somewhat-pained contemplative expression, as if he were debating whether to say something. Eventually, he does: "Changed my mind about something... You've got water, yeah?"

Kav raised an eyebrow, half-surprised at the admission. "That I do. The bottle's still on the side table, if you're fine with that." 

Faustus must have forgotten it was there since his mouth curled into a little "oh" at the mention of it. He reached for it, opened it, and took a light sip. It must have been quite refreshing—he raised the bottle again, and the next time he took a breath, half the thing was gone.

Kav let a silent chuckle shake her shoulders. "Dehydrated, huh? You can have another, if you like. I usually drink from the tap."

The rest of the bottle was gone in an instant, downed like it was the first drink he'd had after weeks stumbling through a desert. But he showed no signs of wanting another, holding up a hand dismissively when he'd finished. "This will do."

"Fair enough," Kav shrugged. She looked to the side, gazing out the window. Faint droplets were splattering over the glass, trailing down like a drought had caught hold of a waterfall. The sound was melodic and calming. "You'll be off to... do your thing again, then?" Getting drunk and getting into fights, she didn't say.

"Why do you ask?" The tone was defensive, almost, and she glanced back at him, taking in his current state. 

He looked—well, a little less than dead on his feet, figuratively speaking, and that was only after a night of scraping him off the ground of an alley. She wondered what he'd be like if he looked alive again. "... Who knows," she eventually answered. "I have a feeling we'll see each other again, anyways."

His eye roll of a response was almost audible. "Leaving it to chance freaks me out. Just take my phone number and we'll call it a day."

Faustus pulled out his phone, a little cracked and worse for wear, unlocked it, and slid it across the floor at her. He wasn't all too much a fan of fate, Kav guessed.

"Fair enough." She squatted down to pick up the device, immediately taking note of the background visible through the cracked glass and app symbols.

It was a picture of Faustus. Rather, of Faustus overshadowed by some tall, smiling figure beside him. In comparison to the way he looked before, the drunkard seemed even more hollow sitting where he was now. At least in the photo he displayed some kind of emotion, even if he looked entirely displeased to be there. 

The overshadowing figure, however... That was another story. He was rather colourful in contrast to the shorter, dark haired fellow beside him. Red hair, turtleneck and a suit- certainly a lot more care went into his appearance than Faustus ever attempted. 

Those piercing green eyes didn't do much joyful justice to the smile accompanying them, and an arm had been wrapped around Faustus, though not in the most endearing of ways. Maybe they were friends. Maybe they were something else. 

But a photo wasn't much to go off of, anyways.

She didn't comment on it as she opened the Contacts app and entered her info. First Name: Kavasi. Last Name: Szkahaav. Faustus would probably put "Kiev" or something as her nickname. She posed for a selfie, holding a peace sign to her impassive face, and set it as her profile picture. That done, she entered her number and texted herself, pulling out her own phone to add the extra information.

Her phone was sleek, black, and modern, kept safe from damage in her interdimensional pockets. The background was completely black - though that wasn't always the case. It was actually set to a photo of Ihlesi, but given their estrangement from reality, the photo occasionally behaved oddly, if it appeared at all. It was nice to have some indicator of her sibling's state, in any case. 

Kav quickly opened her text messages, setting the name for the unknown number as Faustus. Maybe she'll think of a witty nickname one day. With almost everything set, Kav walked back over to the human. A moment passed before she, without batting an eye, took a photo of him splayed on the floor and set it as his profile picture. 

She then leaned down to place his phone on his chest, perfectly centered. "It is done," she announced.

He held a thumb up, as if congratulating her while he looked at the ceiling. "Now you can bother me not just in person, but on a cellular device. Spectacular."

"Hooray," she said, not bothering to inject any more enthusiasm. "I'll do my best." She backed up slightly, before raising a questioning eyebrow at Faustus. Well... might as well ask. "So, need a hand?"

"No, actually. I already have two." He waved them both in the air, clearly amused by himself, going off his expression, even if his wording was rather monotone.

Kav snorted. "One would hope so." She backed up, giving him some space. "Though I guess I can have more if amorphous void-hands count."

He just stared at her. "I have no clue what that means and I don't think I want to  _ know  _ what that means."

"Noted." She slipped her phone back into her pocket, the weight disappearing as soon as it entered the nothingness. "Who was that other guy on your homescreen? He's got... vibes. Not sure what kind of vibes. But there's something."

"Vibes? Who?" He had to look at his own phone to confirm this. Maybe he'd just forgotten or something. He glanced back up with a sour expression, only one word escaped his lips. 

"Regent."

The sheer distaste with which he said the name was almost impressive, and certainly surprising. She'd expected... well, not that, given how the two of them looked in the photo. "I take it the two of you have a less-than-pleasant history."

He responded with a slow blink, and had eventually stood up, at long last, to stretch his arms up over his head. "We're not friends, if that's what you're thinking. He owns my soul."

A quiet "Ah." escaped her lips. "I... see." That would definitely explain the reaction. What do you even say to that? Faustus seemed unhappy with him, but he'd said that he lost 'fair and square.' Unhappy but resigned with the situation, maybe?

When she returned her focus to reality, she could see Faustus  looking over at her, studying her expression. He didn't stand still over there for long. His eyes had locked with hers as he stuffed his hands in his pockets. "What's with that reaction, why that face? You expect something different?"

Kav shrugged. "I wasn't expecting anything in particular, I suppose. It was just... unexpected. I've never had contact with any dealmakers, myself." She cast a glance over Faustus, then. "Heading out now?"

His focus was now on the window, at long last noticing the rain. He clicked his tongue between his teeth, a show of annoyance. "Suppose I am. Off to make poor life choices as per the usual, hopefully slip and fall in this damn rain, crack my head open like an egg or something."

"... A mood," she couldn't help but say as she joined the human in looking out the window. "I'd appreciate some minimal effort in not doing so, though. Scrubbing blood off the streets isn't the best way to spend time. And I can't imagine getting caught half-dead - or dead, I guess - by the authorities is very pleasant." She laughed dryly, once. "I'd know."

It was an amusing thought- but it hadn't jested more than a shrug out of Faustus. "Unfortunately, I don't have that trouble. Even if I did, Regent would fix it. He always does. Somehow, somewhere, that grinning beanpole is watching. Digging his little claws into everything." He made a claw hand gesture to accompany his words, making a point of emphasis. 

"There's no such thing as coincidence or luck, not anymore. Not when your soul's been pawned by some voodoo hoodoo God man."

That explained his desire to take the chance out of their chance meetings. "Noted. Voodoo hoodoo God man, huh," she remarked, blank face belying her amusement. Though that  _ is  _ interesting. "Maybe my great-something grand ancestor knows of him," she muttered under her breath, low enough that she doubted the human heard. "Well," she raised her voice back to a normal volume, pulling an arm up to stretch, "I've never seen him in my life, so I can only hope he doesn't have his claws in our meetings. Despite," she gave Faustus once-over, "everything, our little chats haven't been terribly unpleasant."

Faustus squinted tiredly at her, quite obviously taking some amount of offense to that statement for whatever reason. "Gee. Thanks. I'm glad I wasn't terribly unpleasant. I'll try harder next time to be more of a disappointment." And with that, he headed straight for the door.

Kav let out a huff of amusement. "Looking forward to it," she called. 

Faustus didn't answer in any way that she could perceive - he simply pulled the door open, stepped out, let it fall closed, and he was gone. 

Hopefully he doesn't crack his head open slipping on the pavement. 

Kav sighed, making her way to the couch and letting herself be absorbed by the familiar cushions. She heard a vibration, then, and reached into the nothingness to pull out her phone - convenient that she could let auditory signals through, or she'd probably miss all her messages. 

The home screen depicted a silhouetted figure cast in moonlight, now. Ihlesi must be drawing closer to reality, again - and sure enough, when Kav opened the messaging app, the conversation with her sibling was right there at the top. No new messages yet, but they always took a while to get around to it. 

Kav sunk deeper into the couch, thumb hovering over the keyboard. It probably wasn't any of her business, but she couldn't help her curiosity. 

_ Met someone recently, _ was the first message.  _ Do you know a dealmaker called Regent? _ was the next. 

She let her phone fall to her chest, then, as she stared up at the ceiling. Ihlesi was usually the first one who texted, of the two of them. It'd probably take a bit for them to— 

Kav's phone buzzed. 

—Or maybe not. Kav lifted her phone, opening the message. 

_ I'll ask.  _

That was all, and the conversation glitched into nonexistence. 


	5. Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Faustus accidentally hits dial.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Words: 2555

Spinning a glass bottle on a flat surface served a lot of entertainment value, Faustus noted, when one had just finished their sixth drink.

He'd been growing bored out of his mind for the past hour or so, lounging on his couch in his apartment, knowing he truly had nothing better to do and no grand life to live. 

_ Spin, spin, spin. _ That was all the bottle did. Occasionally it would splatter some loose droplet of alcohol. But that didn't really matter. Faustus didn't really care. 

He flopped uselessly, slumping backwards over the couch. His head hit the floor rather hard and fast, dizziness creeping over his senses almost immediately. The alcohol was already flowing through his bloodstream, but hopefully now it'd rush to his head quicker. 

It wasn't long after he hung upside down over the couch that he took out his phone to pass the time, drunk fingers fumbling over the screen and keypad. 

Faustus wasn't entirely sure if he'd hit dial, sent a message, or sold a finger on eBay—he just knew he was probably doing something unintelligent and stupid. And that was all the usual .

A click, and then,  _ "I didn't expect for you to be the one to call me, Faustus." _ There was a lot of noise in the background, but it was hard to tell  _ what _ it was, especially given the amount of alcohol marinating his brain at the moment. And—maybe it was just the call quality, and he could hardly tell with  his consciousness swimming around like a very lost and confused goldfish, but there was something different about her voice. A little more monotone, a little sharper. Not much to go off of.

He dropped the phone on his face for a second—perhaps  _ that _ was why he shouldn't hang upside down. "Owie. Was an accident, Kiev, swear on my left leg." He wiggled that leg in the air, almost chuckling, before realising she couldn't see it, and cleared his throat rather disappointedly.

A snort from the other end.  _ "I suppose I should have known. But since we're here, I guess I can get back to my irregularly scheduled needling. I'd ask what you've been up to, but... I think I have a good guess." _

For some reason Faustus found that amusing, but he couldn't imagine why. Maybe it was just all the blood in his head. It was making his eyes feel funky. 

He held a hand in front of his face, counting his fingers to pass the time. "Oh? You think you have a good guess? How smart of you, you must know  _ everything _ . I must be so predictable, huh? Imagine being smart. Couldn't be me." Every word was laced with honest and upfront sarcasm.

_ "Were it so easy," _ came Kav's voice, punctuated by a barked laugh.  _ "I presume you've dumped a significant amount of alcohol in your veins. I can only hope that you aren't also lying in some alley and getting into fights, at least." _

"I'm side down up. Side... Down up... Down side... Up... Up down... Side..." Why was this so hard? He squinted at the ceiling, the little black dots of his vision buzzing around, flickering at the back of his head like flies. "Upside down! Ha, got it. First try."

_ "First try..." _ She sounds disbelieving, how rude.  _ "Upside down, huh? Now how did that happen? Doesn't seem remarkably comfortable." _

"Actually, it is." Faustus huffed. What did she know about comfort? Probably nothing. He felt fine and comfortable as could be. "And for your information, I am not in a gutter. I am on my couch. And yes. I have had a lot to drink, thank you for your concern."

A laugh from the other end. It sounds half-hearted.  _ "Well, thank you for the information. At least you'll be unlikely to die tonight. One can hope you don't manage to get into trouble in your own home." _

Amusing. He found that rather funny. There was so much that could go wrong, whether he was inside or outside. It didn't matter. A thought tugged at the back of his mind. "I could play some roulette, see how that plays out. I have a gun."

_ "...You do, huh. I feel like I shouldn't be surprised."  _ A sigh.  _ "But come on, do you want to deal with bloodstains on your rug? Actually, come to think of it, do you even leave blood when you die? Fun fact, all my blood, if you want to call it that, gets schlorped back into my body when I revive. It's pretty convenient, honestly. One less reason not to die." _

That thought... Wasn't a pleasant one. He wiped a hand over his face, yawning tiredly. "Uh, gross. My fluids are not magical. And what? Do they creep back inside like worms? Ew, chicken Kiev, do you have worms?"

_ "Do I—no!" _ She laughed.  _ "I'm like a, hmm, a towel. Super absorbent towel. All my juices just soak back up into me, or something." _

He had trouble conjuring that idea in his head. Someone being like a towel? Too odd. Far too odd. "I don't think I want to know, really. Just keep your fluids to yourself Kiev."

There was an odd choking sound, followed by something like stifled laughter. _ "Oh, for—pff, well, when you put it that way, gladly." _ A pause, then, and then an odd buffeting sound in the noise. Wind, maybe? It was annoying. It was giving him a little bit of a headache. 

"What are you doing? Standing in front of an airport or something?"

_ "An airport? Nah. I'm… Hanging around, you might say." _

"What a coincidence. I'm hanging too. Downside..." He repeated it to himself again, confirming it with his tongue and brain, "Upside down."

_ "Heh, you mentioned that." _ The noise went up again before quieting—was she moving around or something? _ "I've got a bit more... open space below me, though.” _

Space below? He wasn't sure what that meant. Maybe she was in space. If only one could go to space so easily. It was probably quiet and empty- definitely not full of all this background noise the call had. 

"Space, huh?" A numbing pain crawled through Faustus' feet, down along his legs. He could feel the pins and needles taking hold, his brain full of blood, head starting to ache. "What's that mean? You out in a field or something, getting abducted by aliens? That kind of space?" Faustus flipped his legs off the couch and laid on the floor, resting his legs.

_ "Nah. That'd be fun, though. I could probably actually survive in a vacuum for quite a bit, come to think of it. Depending on circumstances." _ She sighed.  _ "It's just open air. "Maybe, mm... a few hundred feet or so. Enough, at least." _

A hundred feet or so. He himself was only several feet tall, which would mean... Quite more than a few dozen of him. The image procured was a rather odd one, but he could visualise the height. He squinted into a frown. "That's pretty high up, Kiev."

_ "It is, isn't it? You might say that's the point. It makes me feel alive, almost. Like I'm not some unnatural thing, taking the light of this world just to stay in it a little longer." _

He could feel his mind reeling at the words, far too poetic for his tired brain to handle. "I'm too drunk to understand what that means, but it sounds danger sense-ey."

_ "Ha. Can't say you're wrong. From what I'm guessing... the day you first saw me, I did something similar." _

Oh yes. That. "First time I saw you, you were dead as a doorknob, splayed out like a bird that'd hit the window. Might've been drunk and concussed, but I definitely saw that."

She laughed, the sounds cutting sharply through the background noise.  _ "Sounds about right. In my defense, I don't actually die often. I like to toe the edge. See how close I can get. The last time was just some... bad luck, maybe, that pushed me over the edge. Literally." _

Bad luck, huh? It certainly wasn't just luck, or mere coincidence. She'd been in the area when those friends of his attacked him, right above the steel beams that splintered them into mush. He was sure of that. 

"I'm just that bad luck." He mulled it over, letting his consciousness fade for just a few seconds. The numbing sensation was finally creeping over him—and not in the pins and needles way. 

_ "Is that so…"  _ he heard distantly. __

He snapped right back into reality with a yawn. "Eh… Either way, maybe don't die, Kavasi."

_ "So you remember my actual name, after all."  _ She sighed.  _ "Sometimes I wonder what comes after. What happens when I finally go too far…"  _ Faustus didn't get a chance to respond to that before she continued. " _ Well… I'm not really feeling it anymore, anyways."  _

The noise in the background increased, and then dropped suddenly, punctuated by something that sounded like heels hitting a hard surface.  _ "Alright, solid ground. Happy?" _

"Happy? An overstatementino~," He felt himself humming something, reaching for the dancing dark dots on the ceiling. "At least you're not dead, huh?"

_ "Heh. Guess so. I'll admit dying isn't fun." _ He could hear the sound of steps as she, some part of him was guessing, walked away from the edge. 

_ "And, hey…"  _ she paused, hesitating.  _ "Thanks. No one's really tried to stop me in a while, ha." _

"Consider yourself lucky then, chicken Kiev." 

Considering luck and the fact that he hadn't meant to press dial in the first place... Well, not that it mattered. It probably wasn't best to pry anyway. Even if he was drunk and curious, it's not like he really wanted to insert himself into someone else's life and make their choices. 

He couldn't even make his own.

_ "Sure thing, _ " she agreed rather flippantly. Maybe. There might've been some humor in her tone.  _ "I've always been the luckier one. Unfortunately." _ The last word was muttered so lowly as to be nearly inaudible, punctuated with a quiet scoff.

"Luck isn't going to help you if you don't use it properly. Spoken from experience." 

Truthfully, even if he didn't like chance, he still considered himself drenched in the lake of luck—whether good or bad. "Something bad is going to crawl up your ass one day, guaranteed."

She snorted. _ "Fair enough. I mean, you might say that I did get particularly unlucky this one time... but that's neither here nor there. Brain doesn't always know what's best, so here I am, testing my luck all the time." _

Well, if that wasn't a mood. Faustus sighed, slumping back into the floor. "Same here, Kiev, same here."

_ "What a thing to have in common, huh?" _ Kav laughed bitterly. _ "You know, since we're here, I thought I'd let you know—I asked my sibling about your, ah, acquaintance." _

An acquaintance? He couldn't remember who that was. He knew a lot of people. A lot of people knew him. Some fresh face was beating him into the pavement every week. 

But it couldn't have been any of those, could it? He wasn't sure. So it was better to ask than to guess. "Which one?"

_ "The one that owns your soul? Regent? My sibling's in what you might say is a 'a position to find out' certain kinds of information." _

Faustus could feel his eyes almost roll out of his head. Of course. Just the man he wanted on his mind. "Tall bastard? What, he caught your interest?"

_ "Ha, yeah. You can probably tell by now, but I'm the curious sort. I'd say I'm sorry, but... it's just in my nature."  _ A shuffle.  _ "Ihlesi—they're my sibling—they didn't tell me much. Mostly that he owns and gets most of his power from his followers, and that I shouldn't get entangled with him. That right?" _

So many curious statements. He almost didn't know where to start. The last one, the freshest statement. That would do. It was the only one sticking to him like glue at this point. "The last point, that one, I agree, yes, that one. Don't get caught in his tall bastard trap. He smiles, he's very charismatic. But he's not your friend. He's not my friend. As much as he... Acts like he is."

_ "Noted," _ Kav replied.  _ "But he is an honest dealmaker, isn't he? He'll always fulfill the terms of his gambles, even when he loses." _

"Yeah, maybe. But he wants the same back, and you'd better pay up, too. He might be pretty to look at and friendly to talk to, but he ain't nice about cheating, lying or someone not livin' up to his terms." 

He paused to think on one of the few moments he'd seen an uglier side of Regent and shivered. He wasn't someone to meddle with. "Trust me, he ain't the sort you want to be around."

_ "Heh... fair enough. I suppose you'd know. Still..." _ She trailed off for a few seconds.  _ "I—actually, nevermind. I guess since I'm not in danger of becoming a black spot on the concrete and you don't seem in immediate danger of getting wrecked by anything, I guess there isn't much more to say." _

Faustus wasn't sure what that meant. It took a few seconds for him to reply, and even then he wasn't sure what was said. His mind was wandering. "You don't plan on meetin' him, do you? If you want something, don't make a deal for it, Kiev. Work for it,"

"What, me? Nah, I'm not interested in making any deals or gambles. Not for myself," she muttered at the end. "And I'm—I'm fine with how I am. Can't say I'm happy. But I'm fine. It's just—" she sighed. "You don't seem... fine."

He hummed, rather amused by that. It turned into a soft, sarcastic chuckle. "Fine? Sugar is fine. It's also sweet. I'm neither of those. But you know, I am drunk, so, that's like... It's better."

_ "I—pfft. I'm... I'm not sure I agree. But you do you, Faustus. You do you." _

"I will, thank you, I always do. Do what I want, when I want, I don't even  _ care. _ " He kicked his legs into the air, tiredly letting them stand there. It was a good thing they were attached to his body, otherwise he thought they might fall and kick himself in the face. If only they would.

_ "Ha. If you say so. Anyways... I'll leave you be for tonight. Catch you some other time." _

"Mmkay, Kiev, I'll take uh... Take a nap." Faustus felt a yawn coming along, muttering into the phone. He almost dropped it, feeling just how exhausted he really was. He wondered if this time he'd have copious nightmares. He probably would.

_ "... I hope you mean sleep. Isn't it late? Well, in any case. Later. Rest well." _ Immediately following that was the dial tone—she must have hung up, then.

Faustus sighed, dropping the phone, and soon his legs. He was again a crumpled mess of a pancake on the floor. He felt himself dissolving into the carpet like a living liquid, feeling empty again. 

Such a spontaneous conversation really  _ hadn't _ made him feel better, it hadn't kept his thoughts at bay for long. Thankfully he felt the black haze of sleep crawl over his senses, pulling him out of despair and into the unfeeling void.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Profiles/Info: [Kavasi](https://toyhou.se/7206185.-vices-kavasi) | [Faustus](https://www.deviantart.com/unluckiestblackcat/art/Faustus-Ref-841969028)  
> Other Characters: [Ihlesi](https://toyhou.se/7283329.-vices-ihlesi) | [Szkahaav](https://toyhou.se/7247645.-vices-szkahaav)
> 
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